


they tell you not to dance with the devil (but you always do)

by chocolavi



Series: Kagehina Week 2020!! [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: A Week of Kagehina, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Day 4 - Festival, Hinata is a thirsty man, Kagehinaweek20, Kageyama just aims to satisfy, M/M, Open to Interpretation, Sweaty Shouyou Week, day 4 - slice of life, lets just say I took the prompt very vaguely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:34:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24796240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocolavi/pseuds/chocolavi
Summary: “Bad things happen when you play with the devil, Shouyou.”“You play a game you’re never going to win.”His mother warned him about the demons at the festival. He still went anyway.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Series: Kagehina Week 2020!! [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1788559
Comments: 11
Kudos: 152
Collections: Kagehina Week 2020





	they tell you not to dance with the devil (but you always do)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [myrseyy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrseyy/gifts), [MONANIK](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MONANIK/gifts).



> This idea originally started as combination of slice of life + festival in tribute to both kagehina week and sweaty shouyou week. What it ended with was much more 'festival-ly' and not so much 'slice of life'//but here we are XD. Much love to [dayoldcupcake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dayoldcupcake/pseuds/dayoldcupcake) thank you for beta-ing and putting up with me once again! <33

There’s something thrilling to Hinata about doing things he knows he shouldn’t. 

He’s been warned over and over again for the past nineteen years of his life to stay away from it. To avoid the dangers of the festival. He’s always been a good boy, always listened to his mother and her rules. But he’s  _ nineteen _ now; he’s allowed to break some rules...right? Besides, what’s the worst that could happen at a festival that hundreds of thousands of people attend every year?  The noise from the festival is audible in his room, a drumming in his ears as he stares at the flashes of colours and lights in the distance. 

He peeks out his window, checking for the familiar lights of his mother’s room. They’re dim —she’s already fast asleep. He dips his feet out the window, hopping down with as much grace as he can, landing on his ass all the same. He looks back at his house one last time before sprinting toward the blur of light and noise. 

The noise gets louder the faster he runs, his feet hitting the pavement rhythmically, as he sprints toward his destination. He realises that it's not so much noise as it is music—jazz music, if he remembers correctly. 

According to his grandmother, spirits and demons of the past lurk around every corner on this night. Any encouragement of these spirits would be severely punished. The festival was off-limits. The idea of any rebellion on this night was unthinkable, an invitation of the demons into their lives. She told stories of the people that went missing, people that screamed and cried into the night, people that saw things they had never been able to forget.

_ “Bad things happen when you play with the devil, Shouyou.” _

_ “You play a game you’re never going to win.” _

  
  


Hinata reaches the festival much faster than he had anticipated. There are bodies everywhere, cramped together in an attempt to do something akin to dancing, he guesses. Everyone is dressed in colour; glittery masks frame their faces, hiding their identities. Hinata wonders if he looks out of place. His face feels naked all of a sudden.

Hinata taps on a man’s shoulder timidly, ducking as he sways around drunkenly to address him. “H-Hi! I...um was wondering where I can get a mask....?”

The man squints, looking down at Hinata. He towers a whole foot over him, and Hinata wonders if he should be scared at all. “Kid, you shouldn’t be out here on your own, but the masks are over in that corner,” he grumbles, gesturing vaguely in a direction with his beer bottle. 

Hinata squeaks a quick thank you before heading off, squeezing in between bodies until he makes it to a tiny stand where an array of masks are on display. His eyes flitter through the racks, focused on keeping him upright as people press against him. He settles on a pretty orange mask, opting to just take it and dump the money on the table before disappearing into the crowd. 

Hinata inhales the scent of food and bodies alike, vibrant colours invading all his senses. There are people pouring out of every nook and cranny, and Hinata fights to get into a place where he doesn’t feel like he’s being crushed. He finds a handrail and climbs on top of it, peeking out at the crowd from his newfound height. There’s a parade approaching in the distance, trumpets blaring loud enough to deafen him. Hinata presses his mask to his face, tying the ribbon in the back to the best of his ability. He feels a little trapped like this, but reminds himself that everyone is wearing masks. Glancing around, Hinata almost understands why everyone is so willing to give up any sense of personal space to be pressed against each other like this. Everyone is smiling— the expressions and vibrancy of the masks make everyone look like they’re smiling, even if their lips aren’t cracked in a smile in the least.

Hinata steps on his tiptoes, balancing to the best of his ability to watch as the dancers pass by in their extravagant outfits. He has just enough time to conclude that he might one day like to stand in that crowd before someone is knocking into him, sending him sprawling on the ground. There are feet trampling all around him, and Hinata fights to stand up but when he feels a heel dig into his hand he can only cry out, begging for the people to notice him. He’s thrashing, gasping for air as people walk over him, crushing his chest and arms alike. 

He thinks he’s just on the verge of passing out when someone is shoving people out of the way, lifting him easily off the ground in one swift motion. The last thing he sees before blacking out are intoxicatingly fierce blue eyes that rival the night sky.

  
  


* * *

“Oi. You need to open your eyes, idiot. You can’t fall asleep.”

Hinata wakes with a gasp, clutching and grabbing at the first thing he sees—which so happens to be the seemingly tall male that Hinata recalls seeing right before he passed out. They’re in an abandoned alleyway, and Hinata can’t hear the music very clearly, which means they must be a ways from the festival.

“It hurts-” Hinata whimpers, head going limp against the wall behind him.

“ _ No fucking shit _ it hurts, who the  _ fuck _ balances on a handrail in a crowd like that?”

Hinata decides to brush off the fact that this  _ stranger _ is probably the first person in his life to cuss at him in favour of asking a more pressing question.“You saw me?”

The man stutters. “W-Who wouldn’t? You were literally blocking the view for everyone.”

“Oh,” Hinata mumbles, burying his face in his knees. “Sorry about that. I’ve...never been here before.”

The man sighs, and Hinata takes the chance to look up at him. He’s quite handsome—actually, devastatingly so, now that Hinata can pay attention to the parts of his face that aren’t covered by his mask.

“It’s fine. Are you...okay?” He asks, and Hinata is almost convinced the man cares about him. 

Hinata moves his arm a bit and cringes, but it’s nothing he can’t manage. His chest hurts a little too. “I think so...my chest hurts a little,” Hinata replies, wincing at the way his voice cracks. “Thank you for helping me, though,” Hinata says softly, trying to look the man in the eye.

The stranger looks away almost immediately, much to Hinata’s disappointment. “It’s fine. Just don’t get in any stupid situations again. You should get yourself checked, though I don’t know how you’re going to go anywhere in this crowd.”

“It’s fine, I’m sure nothing major happened. I’ll just go home and sleep it off,” Hinata says, obviously disheartened that his first experience at this festival ended in such a way. “I really wanted to stay longer. This festival seems like a lot of fun...you know, when you’re not being stampeded over."

“Only you would laugh at a near-death experience. Do you  _ know _ how many people actually die from being in your position?” The man hisses, and Hinata immediately cringes, looking down at his lap.

“I said I was sorry okay! You don’t need to be mean about it!” Hinata sulks, attempting to turn on his side when his chest flares in pain, contorting his face into a weird mixture of pain and embarrassment. The man is on him in a flash, hands steadying him to lean back against the wall.

“Oi, oi, are you okay? Don’t move, you idiot!”

Hinata lets out a choked sob and lets himself breathe heavily until the throbbing ache in his chest dulls. “Guhhh that was a  _ bad _ idea.”

“No shit,” the stranger says, sitting down next to him. “Come on, let me check if you damaged anything serious.” 

Hinata squeaks, scooting away. “Here? Right now?”

“Do you have a better idea?” The man asks, and Hinata can see his eyebrow quirk above his mask. Hinata suddenly  _ really _ wants to look behind that mask.

“...no,” Hinata mumbles, scooting back over to the man. “What do you want me to do?”

“Just...lie down and I’ll check you.”

“I don’t wanna lie down on the gross floor! There are probably....cockroaches here or something!”

The man groans before pulling on Hinata’s collar and pressing him down so Hinata is laying in his lap, staring up him. 

“Oh.”

“Any more complaints?”

“No,” Hinata mumbles, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. He watches as hands that are not his own reach for his shirt, sliding it up ever so slightly until Hinata relents and grips his wrists, holding them down. “Wait!”

“W-What?”

“This is really weird. I don’t even know your name, and you’re already d-doing this!”

“Dumbass! I’m helping you! Don’t talk about it as if I’m having sex with you!”

At that they both freeze, unmoving as they stare at each other. An awkward silence passes, and they divert their eyes.

“Kageyama.”

“Huh?”

“My name is Kageyama.”

“Oh,” Hinata says softly, repeating his name silently in his head. It’s a nice name. “My name is Hinata.”

_ Kageyama _ grunts and Hinata takes it as an acknowledgement. It’s only then that Hinata realises that he’s still gripping Kageyama’s wrists, keeping them pressed against his lower abdomen. He lets go immediately, mumbling a quiet apology. 

“So do you want me to check you or not? Because if you’re uncomfortable I’m not going to...do anything.” 

It might be due to the lack of light, but Hinata swears Kageyama looks a little nervous.

“Y-Yeah....okay.”

It seems like an hour passes before Kageyama moves his hands. He lifts Hinata’s shirt slightly, just enough so that it unsticks from his sweaty skin. He slowly drags it upward. It doesn’t hurt at all, but Kageyama does it gently enough that Hinata thinks it might hurt if he does it any faster. Kageyama’s fingers barely brush against him, and it’s not like Hinata  _ wants _ to be touched—he just thinks it would be more comforting. It’s only when his shirt reaches his chest and he starts to feel his shirt peeling off sensitive skin that Hinata takes the initiative to reach over to squeeze Kageyama’s arm. He grits his teeth as Kageyama moves even slower now, pulling his shirt up gently. 

“So why haven’t you been to the festival before?” 

Hinata registers the question, glad to have something distracting him from whatever Kageyama is doing. “Um, my mother thinks that it invites demons...and all that stuff.”

Kageyama lets out a snort. “Demons? This festival is nothing more than drunk people parading around and doing things they’re going to regret tomorrow morning.  _ That _ is the only sort of demon that exists here.”

“Oh....then what are you doing here?” Hinata asks blankly. Then a thought hits him. “A-Are...you here to do something you’re going to regret too?”

There’s a long pause, and it’s only then that Hinata realises his shirt is already tucked under his neck. Kageyama is looking at him, and Hinata can only describe the look in his eyes with one word:  _ want _ .

“Maybe,” Kageyama replies softly enough that Hinata wonders if he said it at all. 

Kageyama suddenly changes the topic. “You’re bruising really badly. You’re going to have to get it checked out at a hospital tomorrow.” 

Hinata senses the shift in tone as Kageyama diverts the subject. He doesn’t say anything when he feels the pads of Kageyama’s fingers moving lightly across his ribs. Kageyama is probably checking if he broke a rib or something. Nothing else, Hinata tells himself. 

“Are you going to leave now?”  _ Hinata wants to kick himself. _ The words leave his lips before he even has time to think about what it sounds like. There’s a deafening pause that follows where the only thing Hinata can hear is his heartbeat. Kageyama looks equally as shocked, and Hinata feels him tense up under him. 

“Do you want me to?” Kageyama asks quietly, fingers tracing his jaw.

“No.” Hinata swallows thickly, his voice full of trepidation. They’re treading a line here—playing a game Hinata doesn’t know the rules to.

“Then what do you want me to do?” Kageyama asks, voice hoarse as he brushes his hand across Hinata’s cheek.

Hinata’s eyes flit to meet Kageyama’s. “I want you to do something you’re going to regret tomorrow.”

Kageyama lets out a guttural  _ growl _ and Hinata keens, warning signs flashing in his head. His mother’s words ring hollow in his ear, his grandmother’s also long forgotten. He lets Kageyama push him against the wall and crawl on top of him, lips mere millimetres away from his own. 

“Hinata, are you sure you want this?” Kageyama murmurs and Hinata feels his entire body tremble as he nods, because  _ yes, it’s everything he wants. _

Kageyama’s lips come crashing onto his and Hinata whimpers, arms wrapping around Kageyama’s neck as he kisses Hinata like he's never been kissed before. 

He gasps as Kageyama’s hand finds its way into his hair, tugging and pulling as he slips his tongue between Hinata’s parted lips, licking his way into his mouth. Their masks keep clashing and Hinata desperately wants to tear them off, but Kageyama doesn’t give him the chance. Hinata mewls in response, rolling his tongue over Kageyama’s as he tries to keep pace with him. Their position isn’t ideal for either of them, though, so Kageyama does the second best thing he can. He lifts Hinata right off the ground, and Hinata takes the cue, wrapping his legs around Kageyama’s waist and tightens his arms around his neck. 

Hinata’s back collides with the brick wall behind him, gasps and whimpers stolen and swallowed from his lips as Kageyama’s slide easily across his. Hinata is shaking, falling apart under this _stranger’s_ touch, but it’s not enough. 

_ “The devil makes you greedy, Shouyou.” _

“ _ More _ , K-Kageyama, I want  _ more- _ ”

“ _ Fuck _ , Hinata, be careful—your chest,” Kageyama groans, gripping Hinata’s thighs like they’re his lifeline. Kageyama rolls their hips together, every movement pulling a cry from Hinata. His tiny hands fist desperately in Kageyama’s shirt as he grinds their cocks together over far too many layers of clothing.

Kageyama mouths at his neck, biting and sucking along the curve of his shoulder, and Hinata can only throw his head back and sob as Kageyama ruts against him.

“Hinata— _ fuck _ —” Kageyama rasps into his shoulder. “You look so good—”

“T-Take it off,” Hinata gasps. “Take it  _ off _ Kageyama.”

“Take _ what _ off?”

Hinata whines, hoisting himself up with Kageyama’s shoulders. “The mask—the stupid mask— _ please _ .”

Kageyama does as he’s told, fingers slipping to the back of Hinata’s head as he pulls on the single string keeping the mask in place. It falls away, dropping to the ground, and Kageyama freezes, motionless as he looks at Hinata’s face.

“Wh-What’s wrong?”

Kageyama brings his palm to Hinata’s face, brushing a thumb across his cheek with such tenderness Hinata almost loses it. “I really must be the devil to make an angel like you fall to my level.”

“ _ What are you t- _ ”

Hinata isn’t given an opportunity to answer as Kageyama hitches him higher against the wall. Firm hands move to grip his ass, pressing Hinata as close to him as possible without hurting him. He rocks his hips again, each roll sliding Hinata’s back up and down against the brick wall with bruising force. 

“Ahn- K-Kageyama, you feel s-so good,” Hinata moans, completely debauched. He can feel his saliva pooling in the corner of his mouth, trickling down his chin with every thrust as Kageyama rocks into him. His mind keeps replaying Kageyama’s words,  _ angel, angel, angel,  _ but Hinata doesn’t feel like an angel at all.

It’s degrading, immodest, and immoral, what they’re doing. He should feel repulsed by the noises he’s making as Kageyama slips his hand below the waistband of his pants. He should feel ashamed that he comes undone in a matter of seconds, but all he can think about is the blinding ecstasy he feels as Kageyama delivers the final few strokes that send him over the edge.

He does the same for Kageyama, palms pressed fervently between his legs on his bulging cock as Hinata strokes him. When Kageyama groans, Hinata can’t help but shudder, his knees buckling as he realises how  _ weak _ he is to this man. He is most definitely  _ not _ an angel, because he  _ will _ fall to temptation over and over again so long as Kageyama asks him to.

Hinata collapses almost instantly when they’re done; Kageyama readily catching him as if he’s expecting it. 

“K-Kageyama?” Hinata mumbles, trying to form a coherent sentence amidst his cloudy thoughts. His eyes suddenly feel like lead, heavy enough that he struggles to keep them open for even a second longer. 

“I think I’m gonna pass out-”

Kageyama only looks at him sadly, combing a hand through his wild hair. “You’re gonna be fine, Hinata.”

“I wanna see your face,” he manages to choke out, and Kageyama seems startled by his statement.

He feels his eyes droop just as Kageyama pulls his mask away, and Hinata gets a glimpse of the most beautiful man he’s ever seen in his life for no more than a second before he blacks out.

***

Hinata wakes up gasping, eyes darting across his surroundings as he tries to figure out where he is. He frowns, seeing the familiar decorations and furniture. He’s in his room. Daylight streams in through his windows. He can smell his mother’s breakfast wafting through the air. Memories flash through his head and he wracks his brain trying to remember how he got back last night. All he gets is a piercing pain in the back of his head along with a faint picture of a face. A devastatingly handsome face. 

Hinata tugs his shirt off over his head, hesitating before looking down at his chest. The bruise has to be there, it  _ has  _ to be there. Hinata remembers it just as clearly as he remembers the events that followed it. But when his eyes land on his chest there is nothing there. No purple blotches in sight. 

It can’t be. No. Hinata refuses to believe it. Last night could not have been a dream. It  _ can’t _ . He drags his feet over to his window, looking out. The festival is long over, Hinata’s image of people-congested streets gone with it. He sinks to his knees, burying his face in his hands. Is he going crazy? He can’t even tell anymore. 

“Shouyou!” His mother’s voice fills the house. “Come down for breakfast!”

With much dread, Hinata drags himself downstairs, plopping himself in his usual seat. His sister is still asleep—as usual, and he thinks he might want a few extra hours in bed too. 

It’s only when his mother turns around to look at him and  _ gasps _ , that Hinata snaps out of his daze.

“S-Shouyou? What happened to your  _ neck _ ?”

Hinata blinks for a moment, not quite understanding his mother’s question. “What? What’s wrong with my neck?”

It’s only when he says it out loud that it hits him. Hinata sprints to his room, rushing in front of the mirror to see a litter of hickeys decorating his neck. He rips his shirt over his head, revealing even more on his shoulders. Hinata slowly reaches to touch one, shuddering at the memories that rush by him.

_ “Bad things happen when you play with the devil, Shouyou.” _

_ “You play a game you’re never going to win.” _

**Author's Note:**

> Just wanna say thank you to [@myrseyy](https://twitter.com/myrseyy) and [@monanik2](https://twitter.com/MONANIK2) for organizing the beauty that is Sweaty Shouyou week!


End file.
